


nothing rhymes with vagina

by thunderylee



Category: KAT-TUN (Band)
Genre: Angst, Canon Universe, Crossdressing, Dubious Consent, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-10-08
Updated: 2007-10-08
Packaged: 2019-02-07 15:28:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12844098
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thunderylee/pseuds/thunderylee
Summary: Because it’s Monday.





	nothing rhymes with vagina

**Author's Note:**

> reposted from agck.

When Kame returned to his apartment after a particularly grueling rehearsal, his door fell open before he had even raised his key to the lock. His initial thought was a burglar, but the fluorescent light from the hallway was reflected in the tube of his television and everyone knows that burglars steal the TV first. This led Kame to the conclusion that either his burglar was very stupid or Jin hadn’t yet managed to lose the key he’d given him when he first moved in. Because everyone knows to give their spare key to someone they trust and see everyday in case of a lockout, and years ago when Kame moved into this place, Jin was his best friend.

“Akanishi?” Kame called out; he wasn’t ‘Jin’ anymore. He doubted he’d ever be ‘Jin’ again.

“Kazuya,” a high voice replied rather exasperatedly from the kitchen.

Kame stopped dead in his tracks, weighing the two options in his head in a logical attempt to decide which one to freak out about first – Jin’s unusual voice or the fact that he was _alone_ in his _kitchen_. He supposed he could have been agitated at the way Jin addressed him as well, so there was a third option. After a split-second of serious thought, he realized that all of the above would have him racing into the kitchen to confront his intruder – even if he had his own key – which is exactly what he did.

He made it as far as the living room when two very important things happened: one, he caught sight of Jin in his kitchen; and two, he walked straight _into_ the coffee table and fell to his knees beside it, his shins throbbing madly in pain that was placed on the back burner in favor of _Jin_ in his _kitchen_. Or, rather, Jinnifer.

“What… the…” There were no words in the Japanese language to express how Kame felt. Angry? Betrayed? Confused? Not really. He knew why Jin was there and he knew why Jin was dressed like that; what he didn’t know was how Jin could possibly think that Kame would consent to it.

Jinnifer stood before him in all of his female glory – three-inch heels, long legs with fishnet stockings that never seemed to end but finally did underneath a slutty skirt, a sparkly sleeveless top with a very low neckline that probably belonged to the real Akanishi Jin, those pouty lips and that goddamned wig with just enough makeup to make Kame question his identification. Jin had always made a beautiful woman; this was no secret. The only thing he was missing was the tits, and while Kame would never admit this to another living soul, that was the only way he knew it was really Jin and not some random hooker standing in his kitchen fucking him with his – her – eyes.

“Like what you see, Kazuya.”

A statement, not a question. Jin already knew the answer. Jinnifer was, if possible, more pretentious than his male counterpart. They were two separate personalities, Jin and Jinnifer; while Jin hadn’t said more than two words to Kame off-camera the entire time he’d been back from hiatus, Jinnifer had broken into his house – again, possession of the spare key notwithstanding – and waited for him to come home, purposely leaving the door cracked open and leaning seductively against his dishwasher like JE had started endorsing household appliances.

Kame had been rendered speechless very few times in his life, this being one of them. “Jin-” he began, then thought better of it. “Jinnifer-sama.”

A sly smirk crossed Jin’s glossy red lips as he nodded his head approvingly, just enough to make his curls bounce. “You remembered,” he said sweetly, slowly putting one foot in front of the other as he approached Kame like a woman on a mission. When he was beginning to invade Kame’s personal space – as far as Jinnifer was concerned, it was his as well – he ran his tongue along his top lip and fingered the frayed collar of Kame’s shirt. “I’m only going to ask you once – do you want me to leave?”

Kame thought about this, very sincerely, for all of half a second. “No,” he said, clearing his throat to cover the embarrassing crack in his voice. “Please stay, Jinnifer-sama.”

Jin’s eyelashes fluttered happily as he tightened his hold on Kame’s shirt, pulling him closer. Close enough to share his air, close enough to feel the rapid _dokidoki_ of their hearts in combined anticipation and fear. It had been so long, Kame had almost forgotten how to kiss the way Jin liked it, but he was quickly reminded as Jin descended on his lips and immediately licked his way into Kame’s mouth.

Jin never wasted any time, whether it be furious frottage in a broom closet between performances or right now in Kame’s kitchen when nobody else was around and they had all the time in the world.

Cherries with a hint of vanilla invaded Kame’s senses, the smell and taste overriding everything else as he kissed back fiercely, feeling a woman but wanting a man; it was complicated, being with Jin. It’s the same feeling he got while filming the romantic scenes with Ayase Haruka in _Tatta Hitotsu no Koi_ , although he could never explain why. He supposed Ayase-san greatly resembled Jin, and that might have been a large part of the reason she was cast for the role in the first place, but that didn’t change the fact that every time they kissed he had to stop himself from thinking she was Jin. He didn’t think Ayase-san would have appreciated him kissing her like _this_ , even if her character most definitely would.

That drama may as well have been about him and Jin, anyway. Kame had always been the “poor boy” who wasn’t good enough for the “rich girl.” Figuratively, at least. Jin’s ego was up there with the stars and the moon, and nothing short of exactly that would satisfy him. Kame couldn’t give him the moon; he couldn’t give him anything except a blowjob for the longest time, until Jin got his own place and they could finally be alone. Even then, it was just an orgasm, and Kame continued to feel inadequate to the promising fame and fortune that provided the stars in Jin’s eyes and grew larger and larger as their debut neared. Once it finally happened, it was like Kame didn’t exist; he may as well have been held back by the human barricades with the other fangirls who wanted nothing other than Jin’s attention, even for a fraction of a second.

It was amazing how Jin was the one in a dress and wig but somehow he managed to make Kame feel like the lovesick teenage girl whenever he was in the room. It wasn’t that he loved Jin; rather, he _couldn’t_ love Jin. Jin was impossible to love in the sense that it would have to be returned, and the Akanishi Jin of today loved no one but himself. The fangirls may be content with their one-sided relationships, the pictures on their walls, the brief glances in their general directions at concerts, but Kamenashi Kazuya was not.

He didn’t know why Jin was here, as Jinnifer, in his kitchen, but love was not amongst the plausible reasons. Love was not an option, and besides, everybody knows that love and sex are not interchangeable. However, if Jin wanted sex, he could have gone anywhere. Maybe he knew Kame would be the easiest – he was practically a walking hard-on when Jinnifer was around. Jin didn’t make a point of cross-dressing very often, usually only for photoshoots and the inevitable groping that would occur backstage afterwards while the remainder of their group conveniently made themselves disappear. In fact, Kame could only recall one other instance where Jin had deliberately transformed into Jinnifer specifically for him – it was one of his birthdays, he believed, but damned if he knew which one

Today was… Kame wracked his brain to think of a special occasion. Not when they met, not when they kissed for the first time; he felt like even more of a girl by simply remembering those dates like it was his mother’s birthday. After several long seconds of thought, during which he was happily being devoured by the man in question, Kame honestly couldn’t come up with anything other than today being Monday.

“Stop thinking,” Jin whispered in his husky girly voice against Kame’s lips. “Close your eyes and enjoy me.”

Not one to disobey a direct order from his Jinnifer-sama, Kame did as he was told and let his hands move on their own accord – down the back of Jin’s dress, over his plump ass and down the back of his thighs until he reached the end of Jin’s skirt and consequently the top of his stockings. Kame fingered the strip of smooth skin in between, smirking when Jin’s body trembled in his arms; he was flooded with pride at the arousal he could still instill in his old lover after all this time.

“Kazuya,” Jin moaned, sounding more like himself than his feminine twin. Unabashedly he grabbed Kame by the hair and crushed their mouths together, followed by the rest of their bodies until they were flush together, Jin’s blatant erection poking Kame’s stomach through the stiff material of his skirt, under which Kame’s hands traveled up until he was met with the flesh of Jin’s ass, no barrier blocking him from touching the soft skin directly.

“Whore,” Kame mumbled, sounding like more of an appreciative growl as he sank his fingers into the cheeks and harshly yanked Jin towards him, thrusting his hips in tandem.

Jin rolled his own in retaliation, gyrating them in a way that only he could as Kame vaguely felt himself being backed up against his own counter. “I’ll show you whore,” Jin hissed, abandoning Kame’s mouth for his neck as he hoisted him up onto the edge of the sink, immediately grinding into him now that their groins were aligned. “I’m going to fuck you, and I’m going to do it in a skirt and heels.”

“No,” Kame said firmly, his body betraying his voice by rocking back against Jin.

“What did you say,” Jin whispered heatedly, his fingers already untying Kame’s track pants and pushing them down over his hips. “You dare to argue with me? Did you forget who I am?”

“Jin -” Kame gasped, a tiny moan escaping as his achingly hard arousal made contact with the bulge in Jin’s skirt. He lifted his legs obligingly and barely noticed the crisp breeze as his lower half was bared to the recycled air.

“Who am I,” Jin pressed, all but ripping Kame’s shirt up over his head, leaving him completely nude while Jin was still fully dressed, or at least as dressed as Jinnifer got.

“Jinnifer-sama,” whispered Kame, lust dripping from his voice as he slowly raised his eyes.

Jin was a picture of beautiful debauchery with his kissed-off lipstick and mussed wig, looking down at Kame through hooded lids as he smiled coyly and lovingly stroked the backs of Kame’s thighs while they were urged onto his forearms. “Good boy. I think I’ll allow you to face me this time.”

“Please don’t,” Kame protested weakly, fighting the urge to give in. “Not like this. We haven’t even talked in -”

“Didn’t I tell you not to think?” Jin tut-tutted and grabbed both of Kame’s struggling wrists in one hand; with the other, he reached over and swiped a dish towel from the oven handle. A satisfied grin adorned his painted face as he tied Kame’s hands behind his head, his fingertips trailing down the inside of Kame’s arms and the sides of his chest as Kame’s body shuddered traitorously from the touch. “Did you honestly think you were going to top me? You love it so much more than I do. Why deny yourself? I’ll make it so good…”

By this time Jin was in his face, licking at his lips as slick fingers probed between his legs. Jin’s breath tickled his skin, as well as the satisfied chuckle he emitted when Kame inhaled sharply and arched at the intrusion, instinctively pushing back against him. Jin went straight for the prostate, swallowing Kame’s irrepressible moans as he massaged it with his fingertips and expertly slid in a third.

“See,” he said, pressing a wet kiss to the corner of Kame’s mouth. “You love it.”

Kame couldn’t speak, only make noises that he would be ashamed of if he had full control of his mind as Jin stretched him purposefully, continuously jabbing at the sensitive gland with Kame’s cock squished between them, leaking onto Jin’s skirt. “Ji-” he sputtered, jerking his arms around like he could break through the tight knot Jin had tied. “Jin, God, fucking do it already.”

Instead of reprimanding Kame for not addressing him properly, Jin flipped up the front of his skirt and buried himself in one thrust. Kame squealed in a very embarrassing way, but he couldn’t take the time to care much since all of his being was focused on the thick hardness inside him, throbbing madly – or maybe that was him – as Jin waited for Kame to adjust.

Patience was not one of Jin’s strong points, but he held on until Kame looked up at him with glazed-over eyes and nodded once, at which time Jin gripped both of Kame’s hips in his hands and pounded into him, his mouth falling open and his wig falling off with the force of his efforts. Kame took the opportunity to press his face into Jin’s real hair, smelling his shampoo mixed with sweat on top of the sex aroma they were creating together.

Jin leaned his forehead on Kame’s shoulder, raising his arms to embrace him as he evened out his pace; Kame’s legs were lifted in the process and his prostate was grazed with the new angle, making him cry out shamelessly and jab his ankles into Jin’s ass. “Deeper, Jin. God. _Fuck_ me, you insufferable whore.”

“Slut,” Jin muttered affectionately into his collarbone, following Kame’s instruction for once and pushing into him with sharp, deep thrusts. He moaned shrilly and suddenly; the look on his face told Kame that he surprised himself as well. “I missed this,” he said quietly.

Kame knew better than to reply, not that he could have if he wanted to. Instead of dwelling on Jin’s words, his focus was more on the increased pressure on his prostate and the lack of contact on his cock. “Jin- Jinnifer-sama, please touch me. Please.”

“Since you asked so nicely.” Jin’s voice wasn’t as stable anymore, his breath erratic and audible enough to be considered sporadic puffs of moaning, his rhythm wavering as he trailed one hand around Kame’s waist, tracing patterns along his abdomen before following the happy trail to where Kame’s erection was jutting out proudly, seeking attention from wherever it could find friction.

Jin’s fingers swept across the head, spreading the precome around in the worst form of torture Kame had ever experienced. It was ironic how Jin was so straight-to-the-point with every other aspect of sex _except_ handjobs. When they were younger, Kame would constantly get off before Jin had even wrapped his hand around him. History threatened to repeat itself as Kame’s cock twitched at the lightest touch, the arousal pooling together in Kame’s belly intensified by Jin pounding against his spot. “Stop fucking around, Akanishi,” Kame spat angrily.

“Fiesty bitch,” Jin whispered into Kame’s neck, sucking the sensitive skin with intent as he enveloped Kame completely in his hand and stroked him roughly and fast. “Come for me, baby.”

Kame didn’t need to be told twice; a disgraceful shriek of Jin’s name elongated into several syllables escaped his lungs as he released his tension into Jin’s hand, Jin’s cock driving into him harder as his insides tightened with the force of his orgasm. With an intensifying groan, Jin looped his arms around Kame’s, clutching onto the dish towel as he rolled his hips mercilessly, fucking him like a jackhammer those last few seconds before his entire body shook and he reached the peak of his moan, almost deafening Kame as he spilled inside him and didn’t let go.

Not wanting to disturb the peace, Kame left him to it, filled with a figurative warmth in addition to the literal kind as Jin continued to clutch onto him even after his breathing had calmed.

“I missed this,” he said again, only it meant something entirely different this time.

Kame met Jin’s eyes as he lifted his head to regard the other; Jinnifer was gone, replaced with the uncertain stare of the Jin who wore his heart on his sleeve and wanted everyone to like him, the Jin who rushed to untie him and flushed scarlet at the realization of what he had just done, the Jin who held him like he had done years ago before the fire of success had consumed him.

“Me too,” said Kame shakily, meeting Jin’s lips in a concluding kiss that conveyed everything else that needed to be said.


End file.
